


Packing my Bags for the Misty Mountain

by seryle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 07:19:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seryle/pseuds/seryle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean spends a day in park. Set when Dean's leg is busted in season 7.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Packing my Bags for the Misty Mountain

Two weeks after having the cast put on, Bobby unceremoniously dumped Dean on a park bench to "get some fresh air." The real problem, of course, was that Dean's cabin fever was infecting the rest of them, something no amount of Tellanova could ever fix. Bobby left him with a pair of crutches, a cell phone, and a book in case he got bored, then sped off down the road to make some legit cash scrapping some cars. 

Dean huffed and puffed the whole ride over, but sat contentedly on the worn wood now that he'd arrived; a copy of The Hobbit to kept him company, and he occasionally stole glances upward to watch the little tykes run around on the playground. Part of him enjoyed watching the kids play. Another part, hidden even further back than the first, knew that it was because it reminded him of how he had first met Ben. 

Somewhere around Bilbo reaching Rivendale, some very petulant screams broke his thoughts. He glanced around, and sure enough, down the path walked a young woman, pushing a stroller with a todder inside, carrying a crying infant, followed by a girl who couldn't've been more than nine. She instructed the nine-year-old to take her little brother to the playground, and sat down with the unhappy infant, trying her best to sooth the little one's cries. She smiled apologetically to Dean, who shot a sympathetic grin back at her. He had barely survived 24 hours with one of those things; she was some type of goddess for lasting more than 3 days, especially with three kids. 

As an expert in going several days without sleep, Dean could seen the signs of exhaustion in the woman. Bags under her eyes, hair mussed from not showering, a light sheen of grease coating her face. The cause was no mystery; the lungs on this thing! Reading was no longer an option when the main siren for defcon 5 sat next to you. He turned his attention instead to watching the woman try her damnedest to shut the kid up. Gently, of course; cooing and singing and bouncing and padding, but the infant wanted none of it. It was no wonder, really, that she didn't immediately notice when her toddler started to cry. The nine year old came running up. 

"MOO~OM! JIMMY'S FOOT IS STUCK IN THE FENCE!" She screamed, despite standing not 3 feet away. The woman shifted her weight to stand up, only for the infant to shift his cries into a new register. She stared at the sky, not so much to pray, than to ask, 'are you fucking kidding me right now?'

"Hey," Dean said, getting her attention. "Need a hand?" he asked, reaching out to accept the new Pavarotti, if she wanted. The woman's eyes narrowed towards him suspiciously. He gave her the most trusting smile he could conjure. 

"My name's Dean. You look like you could use some help, and I promise," he said, tapping his cast with the crutches, "I'm not going anywhere." 

She stared him down for a moment longer before breaking. Whether it was his immobility, or the woman's sheer desperation, the end result was the same: she handed the kid over. 

"I'm Ella, that's Sam, and I will be right back," she said before turning to assist her toddler. 

"Sam, huh?" Dean smiled genuinely as he leaned the infant back on his left shoulder, rubbing the kid's back with his right hand. "I got a baby bro like you. Well, a lot more hair now, but same name. Universe is funny like that." He prepared to bounce and shush the kid the way the woman had, but after a few big breaths in, Sam and calmed down and was out like a light. Huh. Who knew the scent of campfire and Oldspice made such a good baby-Xanax? 

When Ella returned, Dean countered her surprised look with a silent 'who knew?' and was fully prepared to hand the infant over when she flopped down beside him, no intention of reaching for her child. 

"I swear, she is such a Daddy's girl," Ella said, puckering her lips in annoyance. Dean almost asked what she meant, when he realized _Oh, Sam as in Samantha._

"She always this much trouble?" he asked, a one sided grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

"Her dad's gone on a business trip for a few days, and she just refuses to sleep for me," she replied, taking a moment to lean her head back on the bench and breathe in the calm. A content silence filled the air, and Dean went back to reading with his free hand, when Sam's voice sprung up in the back of his mind, saying _'Hey, you're actually not completely terrible at that.'_


End file.
